My mate and next door neighbour, Mark Lester, aged around 16
(Photo supplied by Mark's younger brother, Matthew Lester)
Johnny McCormack, one of Marks uncles, worked at Timbrock and was eventually the victim of a work accident there. He was hit by a blast of super hot steam from a burst pipe and was seriously burned. He had to wear a full body suit for years after that. This was much later than Mark's death though. He was once mistaken for an armed robber with his burn mask on and they called the cops on him.
Tommy McCormack, another of Marks uncles, was a fit young horseman and it was his horses that were kept in the paddocks and stables at the property. He was blonde and well muscled, much like Mark when he grew up, and he had a wooden hut set up for weights etc for working out.
He also had a V8 Hotrod sitting in the shed. It was painted metallic blue. I don't know where it ended up. We went to the Royal Melbourne Show in later years to watch Tommy compete in various horse contests.
Mark's other Uncle, Ted had black hair, he was short, and solid and a bit of an old woman, and Mark and us kids used to tease him relentlessly. It turns out he was gay and eventually he moved to Melbourne before Mark grew up.
Two Volkswagen Beetles were always parked at the property, one belonging to Pat, which was dark blue, and one belonging to Faye, which was white. I was at the Lester/McCormack house quite often as I would go and play with Mark after school. We were only about 5 years old, which is my earliest memory of Mark.
His Grandmother Pat used to mind us, and Mark and I would play in the lounge with his Batman matchbox car while Pat always made us hot pancakes with butter. I think Mark also had the Batman Utility belt too, we were big fans of the original batman series which had just come out.
The horse property was a wonderful place to grow up in. There were lots of huge Peppercorn trees near the actual house, plenty of horses in the horse stables, and plenty of wide open paddocks, with the occasional fruit tree in them. One day we decided to try and get some apricots high up in a tree nearby.
We got a broomstick and started hitting the apricots out of the tree. My brother Ashley ran past and I hit him straight in the forehead, giving him a huge egg-like lump, and nearly knocking him out. Pat was horrified and promptly mothered him, and for some reason covered his forehead in butter.
Occasionally, Tommy would be riding his horses, and when we were lucky he would lift us into the saddle. A few times I was thrown to the ground and trampled, but I still loved playing with Tommy's horses and the smell of them. We used to help him and his girlfriend to feed them.
There were plenty of places to hide at Pat's place and we often played hide and seek. One day we ventured into the concrete irrigation channel at the back of the property, but once we climbed in we couldn't get out. We spent a couple of hours yelling to Pat and my Mum who eventually came and rescued us before we drowned.
Tommy used to have a mate named Billy Hehir, who used to drive over in his red EH Holden, he was eventually killed in a car accident in that same Holden in the Pentland Hills with with a few of his mates. His neck was slashed and he bled to death.
His sister Kathy Thacker lived on the other side of us. Other visitors to come and see Tommy were the Watsons, Barry I think, and his older brother. Ted, Marks uncle, was funny, he was an old fusspot and we used to tease the hell out of him.
Mark Lester had short, cropped, blonde hair in a crew cut. He was always a year older than me and was always just an inch taller. He was confident, and strong and was well loved by his family and ours.
He would come to my place and we would play on the swings. One day when I was six years old, my father was killed on the Pentland Hills Road coming back from Myrniong pub late at night after a bender with his mate, Doug Bailey. who was from Sydney.
Both worked for Timbrock. They were driving a Datsun, 4-cylinder coupe that had no seat belts, they lost control near the old Lion Park entrance and both were killed instantly.
When Mark came over to play that morning, I told him my Dad had been killed. I don't think either of us really understood what death meant, but the ironic part about the whole thing is that Mark Lester was to be killed in exactly the same spot some 12 years later, exactly the same way.
Mark did not go to the State School where I went. He was Catholic and went to St. Bernards. When my dad died I was six and a half, we moved to Maidstone/Footscray and I did not see Mark for another six years.
We eventually moved back to Bacchus Marsh and I attended Bacchus Marsh High School, and I no longer saw Mark that often as he went to another school. I am not sure which one. I started playing football for Darley though and this is where I would see Mark most often. He too played for Darley, starting in the fourths with me, aged around 12.
Mark turned out to be a brilliant footballer. He was a top mark, a great kick, and he was tall, athletic, and agile, by this time, his short, cropped hair was a long golden mane. Mark looked like Tom Cruise with long blonde hair. He had taken to wearing blue levis jeans with white Adidas, "Rome" runners with three blue stripes, and a black, Exacto Windcheater, he wore a Levis jean jacket over this in winter.
Mark had this way of loping along on the balls of his feet, and the girls just loved him. Everyone thought he was cool and wanted to be just like him. He had a dry sense of humor and heaps of mates, Dean Closter, Jeff Callander, Barry Watson, Skeeter Adair and Bronc Sullivan amongst others. I used to walk into the Marsh with him on a Friday night when we couldn't get a lift, and we would talk about all sorts of things.
Mark was not just liked for no reason, he had done some things in his youth that had made him a sort of legend. One day, he was at the Darley Milk Bar, Marty Rowan was there too as was Dean Closter, amongst others. The Milk Bar is right beside the Lerderderg Creek, which is only about 20 metres away.
Anyway, this bikie rode up on a Harley in club colors, he was acting all tough, and he asked the lads where the creek was in a disrespectful sneery sort of way. Mark pointed out that the creek was only metres away, and the fact that the bikie had asked such a stupid question. The inevitable happened and a fight ensued, the bikie got knocked out cold by Lester without getting a punch in. (Lester was his nickname)
Mark was the darling of the Darley Football Club. He was a top player right from the start. He played fourths, thirds, and eventually seniors and several times, he had the talent scouts looking at him from the St. Kilda Football Club. The problem was though, as Mark started to get towards drinking age, he would rather party and he would miss training often, he still played brilliantly on the weekends, despite his lack of commitment.
When Mark left school, he became an apprentice plasterer and worked at the Newport Power Station. He bought a Honda 250cc motorbike, and when I was coming home from high school, I would see him taking off from Pat's place next door into the bush with his black full face Bell helmet on, in his jeans, runner's and jean jacket.
He had girlfriends several over the years, nothing serious, but the one I remember the most was Debbie Crimmins. a lovely local girl that was well suited to Mark. She was his last girlfriend and was going out with him when he was killed.
I used to see Mark at the pubs, and local dances, and at the footy, and we played football in the same team, but he had a different circle of friends, as he was a year older.
A few weeks before Mark died, I was with my brother, and Steven and Wayne Davies, amongst others. We were at the Myrniong Hotel and we were all drinking. Somewhere in our travels, coming home from the pub, we came across Barry Watson in his copper colored XY falcon sedan, he was with Jeff Callander, Nodge Trask, and Lester and a few others. There was some bad blood between a bloke we had in the car and Jeff Callander.
I can't remember his name, anyway we ended up pulling over out the front of John Holmquest's house on the hill, and this bloke and Jeff Callander were at it, punching on, Mark and his mates got out of the car to watch and they were all blind drunk. John Holmquest came flying out of his house and broke it up.
A few weeks later, on February 10th, 1980, I was in Carlton, Melbourne, at my uncle's house when we got a phone call to say Mark had been killed. I was so devastated and shocked I had to be sedated by a doctor.
Mark had been at the Myrniong Hotel that afternoon with Jeff Callander, Nodge Trask, Barry Watson, Bronc Sullivan and Mandy Mullins. Mark was driving but. Jeff Callander followed them in another car when they left the Myrniong Hotel, I am not sure who else he was with.
They were all drunk, they rounded a tight bend a few hundred metres from the Lion Park turn-off, Mark was going too fast and lost control on a tight bend and hit the embankment on the left-hand side. They then rolled down a steep, short hill, into a small valley on the right-hand side. All were thrown from the Car, Nodge Trask and Mandy Mullins were killed instantly.
Mandy Mullins was engaged to Bronc Sullivan. Barry Watson got two broken legs and Bronc Sullivan, a fractured skull and brain damage. Mark Lester survived the accident and the ambulance ride to the Western General hospital. Jeff Callander was with him, but Mark died a short time after arriving. I went to the accident site the next day. It was already a sacred site for me, as it was where my father and his best mate were also killed.
Mark Lester was an enigma, he could fight, the women loved him, he could play football better than most and he was a funny bastard. Mark was also a fairly dirty player and good to have on your side. I once saw a bloke tackle Mark to get a free kick. Mark stomped on his fingers and then feigned ignorance when the umpy gave him a 50 metre penalty, he was loyal to the Darley Team and would do anything to win.
He was one of my heroes, and he was also well liked and imitated by everyone, not many people didn't like him. All of us younger blokes emulated him of course, and we would wear Blue Levi Jeans, Black Exacto Windcheater, and Adidas, "Rome" runners, and we grew our hair long and tried to walk just like Mark. Sadly they were steps too big to fill, even for Mark in the end.
Mark had a short but exciting life, and he has been well missed all these years by his family and his friends. Who knows what he could have become. Marks death sent a ripple of shockwaves through the young Marsh people at the time, and a lot of people had trouble coming to terms with it.
There is not a week goes by that I don't think of Mark Lester & Nodge Trask, I had never met Mandy Mullins, but I grieve for her too as Bronc is a good mate. I went to Mark's funeral and Nodge Trask's, and it was very sad. I have since visited his grave site, and Nodge's many times and it always brings back many memories and a tinge of sadness and a few tears.
A lot of people are not aware that Mark had a younger brother at the time he died. Matthew Lester was only 10 at the time, but he grew up and had some kids and now lives in Traralgon. He has been a bouncer and now works as a professional masseuse. He was the spitting image of Mark. Old Tom, Mark's grandfather has passed away, Pat died several years ago in a nursing home, and the old horse farm has long since gone.
Tommy McCormack still has horses out at Parwan and still rides. Faye is still alive and happy, although Mark's Dad, Colin died from cancer years later. My Mum talks to Faye on a regular basis and I rang Faye to have a chat before doing this story. John and Ted McCormack are still alive too.
